


The Dread Pirate Roberts and Other Misconceptions

by Andromytta



Category: Supernatural, The Princess Bride - William Goldman
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Deviates From Canon, F/M, Gender Swapped Roles, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromytta/pseuds/Andromytta
Summary: Claire is a poor farm girl working on a ranch on the outskirts of Florin, near the border of Guildar, their greatest enemy. She has been in love with the sole heir of the ranch, Kevin Tran, since they were children. When he figures out that he loves her back, they should live happily ever after, right?Wrong. When she goes to seek her fortune on the high seas so that she will be worthy enough to marry him, her ship is attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts. And he never takes prisoners. When he gets word that his true love has been lost at sea, Kevin agrees to marry Princess Charlene, in an effort to save his ranch and protect his country. A retelling of The Princess Bride where the story is made up and gender doesn’t matter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the SPN Movie Big Bang, which was tons of fun! I had been wanting to write this fic for a very long time, and this challenge gave me the motivation to do it!
> 
> Extra super special thanks to my AMAZING artist, WeldersMightyB. Not only did she make fabulous art for this project, she also kept me from going (more) crazy when we got down to crunch time. Be sure to check out all her amazing art on Tumblr! 

 

 

Kevin Tran was raised on a large farm in the country of Florin, close to the border of their enemy, Guildar. While he spent his free days riding and perfecting arts befitting a young man of his standing, his favorite pastime was tormenting the farm girl who worked there.  Her name was Claire, but he never called her that. Nothing gave Kevin as much pleasure as ordering Claire around.

“Farm Girl, polish my horse’s saddle.  I want to see my face shining in it by morning.”

“As you wish.”

“As you wish” was all she ever said to him.

“Farm girl, fill these with water.” He paused briefly before adding, “please.”

“As you wish.”

The day came when Kevin realized that when she said that, what she really meant was, “I love you.”  He was surprised, but was more surprising was the day he realized that he truly loved her back. That day, as Claire was leaving the barn, Kevin called her back in.

“Farm Girl, fetch me that pitcher,” he said, indicating the one right above his head, that he could reach more easily than she could.

Claire made her way over and, standing on tiptoe, reached for the pitcher.  Her blue eyes locked on his brown ones and they shared a small, secret smile; a smile that could say more than one hundred million words could.  It wasn’t long after that before they were stealing kisses at sunset. They had to hide their relationship from Kevin’s mother. The son of a land baron could not be wed to a poor farm girl with no family, no name.

Eventually the time came when Claire knew she had to do something to keep her one true love.  They couldn’t hide their relationship forever, especially once the offers for arranged marriages started flooding in.  Claire had no money for marriage, so she packed her few belongings and left to seek her fortune across the sea. Her plan was to come back with victories and riches and demand Kevin’s hand in marriage.

For the first time in their history, it wasn’t Kevin ordering the farm girl to saddle his horse; he was saddling one for her.  Claire was leaving, and even though she promised to come back for him, he knew where she was going was dangerous. If the tiny merchant boat that hired her was attacked by the infamous Dread Pirate Roberts, how would she ever survive?  

He didn’t say a word as he helped her mount her steed.  He took her hand and pleaded with her. “Please come back to me.”

“As you wish,” she said, eyes sparkling with tears unshed.

Kevin felt adrift, confused, overrun by emotions he’d never felt.  “What if I never see you again?”

“Of course you will,” Claire reassured him.

“But what if something were to happen to you?

“Oh please.  Like anything would happen to me.  I’m tough.” Claire tried to lighten the mood.  Seeing that Kevin was not amused, she looked intently into his eyes and added, “I will always come for you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Kevin, this is true love.” She smirked, the smile he loved best, one that said she was up to something.  “Do you think this happens every day?”

They kissed goodbye, the space between them filled with doubt and insecurity, but Kevin steeled himself and gave Claire a leg up into her saddle and she headed on her way. As he watched Claire ride off of the farm they grew up on, he had the sinking sensation in his stomach that he was never going to see her again.

***

Claire didn’t reach her destination.  Her ship was set upon by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who never kept captives alive. Nearly a year later, the letter arrived. He fell to his knees, into the mud, tears streaming down his face. Once Kevin finally received the confirmation that Claire had been murdered by pirates, he locked himself in his room.   He didn’t eat or sleep for days. _Taken by hostile pirates...no survivors_. He’d known it.  All the plans they made, all the hours of dreaming of a life together died with her and sunk into the sea.  He’d never see his lovely, golden farm girl again.

He remembered the first time Claire said those three little words to him.  Kevin had just turned nine and his mother gave him a kitten for his birthday.  She warned him not to take the tiny creature outside, but he was headstrong and did it anyway.  Inevitably, the cat went up a tree. The farm hands ignored the cries of their boss’s child. To them, he was nothing but a spoiled brat.  But the seven year old girl, who lived among the farm hands, heard his cries and responded.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“My kitten, it needs to be rescued from the tree,” he said between sniffles.

“As you wish,” she said, and quickly scampered up the tree and retrieved the kitten.

Most everyone on the farm ignored the farm girl, including the farm hands that were tasked with raising her when she was left on the doorstep of the main house.  But not Kevin, he never ignored her, but he was unable to do anything other than order her around. That never mattered to them. Even though he only spoke to her in commands, there was something in his voice and behind his eyes that always said so much more.

“I will never love again,” he said to no one.

***

Some time later, Kevin’s mother got a letter from the last person they expected, and when she presented the proposal to Kevin, he readily agreed.

“Kevin, are you certain this is the future you want?  Moving into the palace and marrying the princess?” Madam Tran still wasn’t sure how she felt about marrying her son off to the highest bidder.

“It’s alright, Mama.  This is the best way to save the farm…and save our country from Guildar.”

“But what about your farm girl?  You promised you’d wait.”

“You knew about us?” Kevin asked in surprise, eyes wide, mouth popping into a little “O” shape.

“Of course I did.  I’m your mother.”

“And you would have let us get married?” Kevin asked, suspicious.

“Well, not right away, no,” his mother answered.  “But if, after her adventures, she could find a way to protect our farm from Guildar, I would have allowed it.”

“Yes, well, you heard the news same as I did.  The Dread Pirate Roberts took her ship, and he never takes prisoners.  She’s dead. There’s no point in waiting for a dead person.” Kevin’s deep brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears.  “I have nothing left to lose; I may as well do something to help.”

A few weeks later, the main square of Florin City was filled as never before to hear the announcement of the great Princess Charlene’s spouse to be.

 

“My people!  One month from now, our country will celebrate its 500th anniversary.  On that sundown, I shall marry a gentleman who was once a commoner like yourselves.”  (Although “commoner” was a slight misnomer, as this “commoner” was the only son of a wealthy land baron.)  “Perhaps you will not find him common now. Would you like to meet him?”

The crowd raised a mighty cheer.  “My people, the Crown Prince, Kevin Tran!”  They parted like a great sea as Kevin Tran walked in from the far side of the square.

Kevin was dressed more finely than he’d ever been before, clothing rich in texture, cut and tailored to show off his natural beauty.  White leather pants hugged his toned legs, a white crushed velvet shirt hung off of his slender frame, the deep V-neck held together by white suede cords gave a hint of the sculpted chest underneath.  His caramel skin glowed under all of that white. He was a lovely specimen, his equal had never been seen.

While he may have looked the picture perfect role of the Princess’s betrothed, Kevin’s emptiness consumed him.  While the law of the land gave Princess Charlene the right to choose her husband, he did not love her.

Despite Charlene’s reassurance that he would grow to love her, the only joy he found was in his daily ride.  Kevin’s riding attire was similar to his formal attire. Black leather pants replaced the white, and a deep burgundy shirt graced his torso.  “Nothing but the best for my betrothed,” the princess would say when it came to wardrobe choices for him.

This ride was different from the others, as it held a surprise.  Kevin’s horse came to a halt when there, on the trail, stood three men, each one taller than the one next to him.  The shortest man appeared to be the leader. He had dark hair that was thinning slightly on the top, and was dressed in fine jodhpurs and a brocaded purple doublet.

He said, in a fancy foreign accent, “A word, my lord?  We are but poor, lost circus performers.  Is there a village nearby?”

The other two men said nothing.  The one in the middle, who appeared to tower over their leader merely rested a relaxed hand on the pommel of the sword at his side, while the giant on the far side just stood there looking, well, giant.  Kevin took all this in, and wondered briefly if he’d found the trouble his mother was always so concerned he would. Tentatively, he answered, “There is nothing nearby.  Nothing for miles.”

The short man smirked.  “Good. Then there will be no one to hear you scream.”

The giant approached his horse, but before Kevin could even attempt to cry for help, the giant grabbed the back of his neck, pinching the nerves there and rendering the crown prince unconscious.

When the trio of “circus performers” reached the dock where their boat was waiting, the leader took to tearing a piece of fabric to attach to the crown prince’s horse.  “What is that you’re ripping?” the swordsman asked.

“It’s fabric from the uniform of an army officer from Guildar.”

“Who’s Guildar?” the giant asked.

“The country that borders Florin, their sworn enemy.”  He secured the scrap of Guildar’s crest to the saddle and slapped the horse’s rear and sent it on its way.  “Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make the princess suspect that the Guildarians have abducted her love.  When she finds his body dead on the Guildar frontier, her suspicions will be totally confirmed.”

Running his hand through his shaggy hair in concern, the giant said, “You never said anything about killing anyone.”

Sighing, the leader explained, as if he were talking to a child, “I hired you to help me start a war.  It’s a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition.”

“But, Crowley,” the giant said, running a hand through his hair again, “I just don’t think it’s right, killing an innocent boy.”  He looked over at the swordsman imploringly.

“Am I going mad?” Crowley asked, “Or did the word ‘think’ just come out of your mouth?  You were not hired for your brains, you barreling moose!”

“I agree with Sam,” the swordsman said conversationally as he hopped into the boat.

“Oh, the lush has spoken!” Crowley said with disdain.  “What happens to him is not truly your concern. I will kill him.  And never, ever forget this: when I found you, you were so sloppy drunk you couldn’t even buy whiskey!”  He turned on Sam next. “And you! Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed, in Lawrence?!” Having sufficiently startled them into silence, they finished loading their boat and prepared to set sail.

Once aboard, Sam and the swordsman decided to have a little fun at Crowley’s expense.  The swordsman leaned into Sam and said, “That Crowley he sure can _fuss_ …”

Sam replied, “Fuss, fuss…but then he likes to scream at _us_.”

“Probably he means no _harm_.”

“Oh, but he is very short on _charm_ ,” Sam replied in a singsong voice.

“You have a great gift for rhyme.” The swordsman said with awe.

Sam replied modestly, “Yes, yes.  Some of the time.”

Easily hearing what they were up to, Crowley shouted, “Enough of that!!”

With a cheeky grin, the swordsman asked, “Sam, are there rocks ahead?”

“If there are, we’ll all be dead!” Sam replied with a grin of his own.

“No more rhyming now, I mean it!” Crowley shouted with exasperation.

“Anybody want a peanut?!”   Sam asked with a chuckle.

“Bollocks!” Crowley screamed, stamping off to the hold of the ship.

The trio sailed in silence, well into the cover of dark. Excited for the progress they were making, Crowley announced, “We should reach the cliffs before dawn!”

The swordsman was perched on the stern of the ship and he kept looking behind them across the sea.  Annoyed, Crowley asked, “Why do you keep doing that?”

“To be sure nobody is following us.”

“That would be inconceivable!”  Crowley sad with a flourish.

The prince had awoken by this time, and put his own two pence in.  “Despite what you think, you will be caught.  And when you are, the princess will have you all hanged.”

Crowley looked smugly at the prince.  “Of all the necks on this ship, highness, the one you should be concerned with is your own.”  He turned to the swordsman, who was still peering anxiously into the night.  “Stop doing that! We can all relax.  It’s almost over.”

The swordsman was skeptical.  “Are you sure no one is following us?”

Crowley turned his full attention to the swordsman.  “As I told you, it would absolutely, totally, and in all ways inconceivable!  No one in Guildar knows what we’ve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast…Just out of curiosity, why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason. I just happened to look behind us, and something is there.”

“What?!” Crowley yelped and raced to the swordsman’s side.  “It’s probably some local fisherman on a pleasure cruise…at night…..through eel infested waters….”  The confidence drained from his voice as realization dawned on him.

Seeing a plausible escape, the crown prince leapt from the boat and into the water.

Crowley turned to the swordsman.  “Well, go in! Get after him!”

The swordsman shook his head.  “I don’t swim.”

He turned to Sam next.  “I only dog paddle,” the giant replied, gesturing with his huge hands at chest level.

“Bollocks!” Crowley shouted before he started barking orders.  “Put it hard to port! That’s starboard, go to port. Left! Veer left, _left,_ you nincompoop.  Pivot!  Pivot!”

Suddenly, an eerie shrieking filled the air.  Kevin stopped swimming towards the other vessel and looked around.

With a mild hint of a gleam in his eye, Crowley said, “Do you know what that sound is, Highness?  It’s the shrieking eels. Don’t believe me? Just wait. They always grow louder when they are about to feast on human flesh.”

As if on cue, a giant eel reached the surface and swam just inches from Kevin’s head.  He looked around warily, debating if he could still make it to the other ship. Fear started to seize him when he realized it was too far away.

Crowley leaned over his boat.  “I’ll make you a deal. If you swim back now, I promise no harm will come to you.  I doubt you’ll get such an offer from the eels.”

The eels’ shrieking grew louder and louder.  They started circling Kevin, drawing closer and closer to the crown prince.  An eel grew bold and started to charge him when suddenly, with his moose-like strength, Sam bashed the eel on the head, rendering it unconscious and pulled Kevin from the freezing water.  Crowley instructed Sam to put him down on the deck.

Once Kevin was safely aboard and seated on the deck, the swordsman spoke up.  “I think he’s getting closer.”

“He’s no concern of ours!” Crowley spat.  “Sail on!” He then turned a derisive look on the crown prince.  “I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?”

“Only compared to some,” Kevin spat right back.

“Look, he’s right on top of us!” the swordsman shouted.  “I wonder if he’s using the same wind as us?”

“Whoever he is, he’s too late!” Crowley said triumphantly.  “Look! The Cliffs of Insanity! Move that thing. And that other thing.  Hurry up!”

They anchored the boat along the cliffs and started to disembark.  Crowley, still feeling victorious, announced, “Only Sam is strong enough to go up our way.  He’ll have to sail around for hours looking for a harbor!”

The swordsman helped Sam into the sturdy leather harness that would hold the other three.  Once that was buckled safely into place, he secured the crown prince into the loop at the back, then he and Crowley buckled into their own loops.  Once everyone was secure, Sam began his ascent. Kevin looked up and up and _up_ towards the top of the cliffs with dismay.  He closed his eyes tightly and pressed his head into Sam’s back, clinging onto the giant man for dear life.

As they climbed, the swordsman couldn’t help but look back, keeping an eye on the other ship.  It wasn’t long until it set its own anchor not far from theirs. A man in black quickly came ashore and before long he was climbing their rope.

“He’s climbing the rope!” the swordsman announced.  “And he’s gaining on us!”

Crowley scowled.  “Inconceivable!” He said, even though he was watching it with his own eyes.  “Faster!” he shouted at the giant.

“I thought I _was_ going faster!” Sam said with exasperation.

“You were _supposed_ to be this colossus, this great legendary thing!  And still, he gains!” Crowley said, venom dripping from his voice.  His fancy accent made him sound all the more derisive.

“Well, I’m carrying three people, and he’s only carrying himself.” Sam explained logically.

“No excuses!  Guess I’ll just have to get myself another moose!”

“Don’t say that, Crowley.”

Sam tried to go faster.  He put all of his strength into it.  Still, the man in black was gaining on them, and quickly.

Crowley sneered.  “Did I mention that your _job_ is on the line???”

The trio and their prisoner made it to the top of the cliffs.  The swordsman helped Kevin up and over the edge while Crowley started to cut the rope he had previously had tied to a rock for their ascent.  The rope snapped and slithered down and over the edge of the cliff, certainly taking the man in black with it.  Only when the swordsman and Sam peered over the edge of the cliff, they found the man clinging to the side.

“He’s got very good arms,” Sam observed.

Crowley joined them shortly after.  “He didn’t fall? Inconceivable!”

The swordsman looked over and down at Crowley with a smirk.  “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

In unison, they all looked back down the side of the cliff.  “Son of bitch! He’s climbing!” the swordsman exclaimed.

“Whoever he is, he’s obviously seen us with the crown prince and must surely die,” Crowley declared.  He pointed at Sam with his knife. “You, carry him.” He then turned to the swordsman. “We’ll head straight to the Guildar frontier.  You’ll join us when he’s dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword.”

The swordsman gave him a small smile.  “I’ll do him left handed.”

Crowley sighed.  “You know what a hurry we’re in!”

“It’s the only way I can be satisfied.  If I use my right,” he shrugged, “it’s over too quickly.”

Crowley sighed again.  “Fine,” he said, vexed, “have it your way.”

Sam clutched the crown prince by the ropes binding his wrists.  He turned to his friend before following Crowley. “Be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted.”

The swordsman nodded.

“I’m waiting!” Crowley said with exasperation.  That seemed to be his default emotion around these two knuckleheads.

While he waited for the man in black to finish his treacherous climb up the sheer cliff, the swordsman shook out his hands to get his muscles ready for the fray.  He practiced his footwork. Getting bored and antsy, he peered down over the edge and said, “Hey there!  Slow going?”

The man in black responded.  “Yo, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is so not as easy as it looks.  It would be swell if you didn’t distract me.”

“Geez, sorry!”  The swordsman retorted.

“Thanks, dude.”

The swordsman stepped away from the ledge and continued to work on his moves.  He pulled out his rapier and parried a few times while tossing it from hand to hand.  Until he grew bored once again. He peered over the ledge and asked impatiently, “I don’t suppose you could hurry things up?”

“If you’re in such a hurry, you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find something useful to do,” the man in black responded with a huff.

The swordsman shrugged.  “I _could_ do that.  I do still have some rope up here.  But I really don’t think you’d accept my help, since I’m just waiting around to kill you.”

“That does put a bit of a damper on our relationship.”

“But I do promise not to kill you until you reach the top!”

The man in black rolled his eyes, not that the swordsman could see that from so far up or behind the other man’s mask.  “That does sound appealing. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.”

“Son of a bitch.  I hate waiting…..I could give you my word as a man.”

“No good.  I’ve known too many men.”

“Isn’t there any way you will trust me?”

“Ha!” The man in black laughed.  “Nothing comes to mind.”

The swordsman had a sudden epiphany.  “I swear on the soul of my grandfather, Henry Winchester, that you will reach the top alive.”

That was good enough for the man in black.  “Throw me the rope.”

The swordsman unwound the length of rope still wrapped around the boulder and threw it down to the man in black.  Once it was caught, he helped pull the man in black to the top of the cliff.

“Thank you,” he said, mildly out of breath.

The man in black went to pull his sword from its scabbard.  The swordsman studied his opponent’s sword. It was clear this masked man knew his stuff, even though the sword seemed slightly too big for his small frame.  It had a long, glistening silver blade. The hilt was wrapped in leather, blackened by the sweat of much use, and around the hilt there were four prongs of coppery metal twisted surrounding the base of the blade. The craftsmanship of the sword was some of the best he’d ever seen, and this swordsman knew a thing or two about swords.  He had rarely seen one it’s equal. In fact, his own blade was probably the only one to rival his opponent’s in quality.

Despite the quality of the blade, it was clear to the swordsman that his opponent was not quite ready to fight, and would not present a decent challenge.  “Wait until you’re ready,” he offered.

“Again, thank you,” the man in black replied, as he sat on a free boulder to pull off his boots and dump out the pebbles that had gathered there.

As he waited, the swordsman had to ask a very important question.  “Listen, I don’t mean to pry, but, um, you don’t happen to have six fingers on your right hand, do you?”

The man in black squinted his blue eyes and gave the other man a confused look.  “Do you start all of your conversations this way?” he asked sarcastically.

“My grandfather was slaughtered by a six fingered man,” the swordsman explained.

The man in black held up his right hand, revealing only five fingers.

“He was a great sword maker, my grandfather,” the swordsman began, “When the six fingered man appeared and requested a special sword, my grandfather took the job.  It was over a year before he was done.” The swordsman handed his sword, long and sharply pointed, over to the man in black for appraisal. “I call her Baby.”

The man in black took it, and said in awe, “Whoa.  I’ve never seen its equal.”

“The six fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one tenth his promised price.  My grandfather refused. Without a word, the six fingered man slashed him through the heart.  I…I loved my grandfather, so naturally, I challenged him to a duel. When I failed, the jackass let me live, but he gave me this,” the swordsman indicated a slash scar to each of his cheekbones.

The man in black was fascinated with the tale.  “How old were you?”

“I was twelve.  Once I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to fencing.  So that the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six fingered man and say, ‘Hello.  My name is Dean Winchester. You killed my grandfather. Prepare to die.”

“You’ve done nothing but study swordplay?” the man in black asked in awe.

“More pursue it than study it lately,” the swordsman, this Dean Winchester answered.  “You see, no matter what I do, I just can’t find him.  It’s been twenty years, and honestly, I’m starting to lose confidence.  I just work for Crowley to pay the bills. There’s not a lot of money in revenge.”

The man in black stood up and said, “Well, I certainly hope you find him some day.”

Dean looked over at him.  “So, are you ready then?”

“Whether I am or not, you’ve been more than fair.”

Dean smirked.  “You seem a decent fellow.  I hate to kill you.”

The man in black responded with a matching smirk.  “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.”

“Shall we begin?”

The other man nodded, drawing his own blade.

The sparring took the two masters all over the rocky terrain.  It was clear that they were equally matched in both knowledge and skill, matching each other parry for parry and thrust for thrust.  Although soon, the man in black managed to get a slight edge over Dean Winchester, fighting him into a corner near the edge of the cliff.

“You are...awesome!” Dean complimented, still blocking each expertly placed blow.

“Thanks.  I’ve worked hard to become so.”

Dean smirked again.  “I must admit, you are better than me.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Dean’s smirk grew into a cheesy grin.  “Because I know something you don’t know!” he said in a sing-song voice.

`“Oh yeah?” The man in black’s blue eyes popped wide in disbelief.  “What?”

“I am not left handed!”  Dean said with a flourish as he tossed his sword from his left hand and into his right.

Once he switched, Dean got the upper hand (pun intended) on the man in black, forcing him up some stairs and against a crumbling rock wall.

“Whoa, you’re amazing!” The man in black complimented.

“Heh.  After twenty years, I ought to be,” Dean shot back.

“Buuut, there is something I should tell you,” the man in black said.

“Tell me.”

“I’m not left handed either!” Quickly swapping hands, the man in black was able to disarm Dean and chase him back down the steps. With a fanciful twirl, he tossed his sword down to where Dean was, where it landed point first into the ground.  He then proceeded to swing twice around a vine that had grown in a decrepit archway before landing next to his sword and picking it back up.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked in awe.

The man in black shrugged.  “No one of consequence.”

“Please, I have got to know!”

The masked man chuckled.  “Get used to disappointment.”

Now that both men were once again armed, the fight resumed.  They scurried over the rocky terrain once again, the dust settling on their boots and sweat dripping into their eyes. Dean parried a heavy blow but nearly missed and the momentum sent him to his knees where he stayed, accepting defeat.

“Okay….just get it over with.  Kill me quickly,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut before raising them to meet his executioner’s.

The man in black looked down at him.  “I’d rather destroy a stained glass window than kill an artist such as yourself…”  His speech was disrupted when his black kerchief, having grown loose in the fight, dropped to the ground while he was looking down at Dean, revealing a cascade of golden curls.

“You’re a _girl_?” Dean asked, incredulous.

“Woman!” She corrected before knocking Dean in the head with the butt of her sword, rendering him unconscious.  “Please understand,” she said, sweeping a hand out in a graceful bow to her crumpled opponent, “I hold you in the highest regard.”

Once dispatching with the swordsman, Dean Winchester, the man in black replaced the black bandana holding flaxen locks of hair in place.  She then proceeded to follow the footprints of the leader, his giant, and the crown prince.

Crowley watched the man in black jogging up the hill.  “Bollocks! Inconceivable!” He grabbed the ropes around Kevin’s wrists and barked at Sam.  “Give him to me! Catch up with us quickly.”

“What do I do?” Sam asked dully.  Now, Sam was not the imbecile giant that Crowley (and most people) took him for.  Because he was a towering moose of a man, most people assumed his brains were small to compensate for his largeness.  However, Sam was smarter than most people he came across. He just found it easier to pretend he wasn’t. Especially when dealing with a blowhard such as Crowley.  He’d rather pretend that he didn’t know what was expected of him, in the hopes Crowley wouldn’t ask him to do it.

“Finish him!  Your way!” Crowley shouted in exasperation.

Yep, there it was.  What Sam didn’t want to hear.  “Oh good, my way. Thank you, Crowley.” Sam said with a tight smile.  “Which way is my way?” he asked, the perfect picture of ignorant innocence.

Crowley rolled his eyes.  “Listen carefully, Moose. Hide behind that boulder over there.”  He pointed to a nearby one that would provide good shelter. “In a few minutes, the man in black will come around the bend.   The minute his head comes around the corner, _hit it with the rock!!_ ”

 _“‘My way’_ is not very sportsmanlike,” Sam observed quietly to himself.  See, Sam never wanted to hurt, or especially kill, anyone. Unless he absolutely had to.  On occasion, he would put on a show fighting half a dozen men to raise money for charity. He frequently took jobs as someone’s protector.  When it came to keeping his charges safe, he was required to use necessary force. But he never killed anyone, and was always loathe to hurt them.  When he took this job, Crowley didn’t say anything about killing anyone. It was bad enough that Sam would have a hand in Crowley killing the crown prince; he really didn’t want to be the one whose hands actually did the killing.

The man in black came around the bend into a clearing surrounded by varying degrees of very large rocks.  She could sense something was not quite right, pausing to look around warily. A rock suddenly exploded against a boulder near her head.

The giant appeared from behind another boulder.  “I did that on purpose. I didn’t have to miss, you know.”

“I believe you.  So what happens now?”

“We face each other as God intended.  No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone.  Sportsmanlike.” Sam explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So, I’ll put down my sword and you’ll put down that rock, and we’ll try to kill each other like civilized people?”  The man in black asked in disbelief.

“I could kill you now.”

The man in black laid down her sword as she said, “You seem to have the advantage in hand to hand combat.”

Sam smirked.  “It’s not my fault being the biggest and strongest.  I don’t even exercise!” He said as he tossed another rather large rock aside.

Sam stood there, as calm and still as the boulders surrounding them when the man in black ran at him and headbutted him.  He continued to be massive, solid and immovable when his opponent ran at him again, this time wrapping her arms around his middle in an attempt to pull him from his feet.   _The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?_ she reasoned.  Of course, the giant didn’t budge.

“Are you just fucking around with me, or what?”

“I just want you to feel you are doing well,” Sam offered.  “I hate for people to die embarrassed.” Just then, the man in black ran under his legs and rolled away in a controlled somersault.  

“You’re quick!” Sam observed with a chuckle.

“It’s a good thing, too.”

“Why are you wearing a mask?  Were you burned with acid, or something like that?” The giant asked, genuinely curious as he stalked after his prey.

“Oh no, it’s just they’re terribly comfortable.  I’m sure everyone will be wearing them in the future!” the man in black explained as she continued to duck out of the way of the giant’s blows.  She darted to the side after escaping the third blow, ran up a rock, around to Sam’s back, jumping on it and wrapping her arms around the giant’s neck.

Sam reached behind himself, trying to dislodge the figure clinging onto him like octopus.  When that failed, he backed into one of the many large rock formations jutting out of the ground, slamming the clinging body into the unyielding granite.  “I think I figured out why you’re giving me so much trouble,” Sam said between struggled breaths.

“Why is that, do you think?” the man in black asked through lungs that were being squished between a rock and moose place.

Sam started moving slowly away from the rock.  “You see, I haven’t fought just one person in so long…”  It was apparent the large man was losing his battle with breathing with each word.  Yet, he still managed to continue to bash his opponent on the convenient rocks. “I’ve been specializing in bouts with large gangs for local charities, that sort of thing.”

“Why does that make a difference?” The last word was choked out as hard contact was made once again with nature.

“You see….you use different…fighting techniques when you’re fighting half a dozen people….than when you are fighting against….just….one.”  The giant’s air and consciousness were slipping away from him, which totally wasn’t Sam’s intention…at all, and he fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

The man in black slithered off of the back of the giant, rolled him over, and listed to his chest to confirm that his heart was, in fact, still beating.  She leaned over him and said, “I do not envy the headache you will have when you wake up, but in the meantime, rest well and dream of large women. Or men.  I don’t judge.” With that, she retrieved her sword and took off after the leader and the crown prince.

While the “circus performers” were being pursued by their opponent in black, Princess Charlene was trailing them all, in pursuit of her pilfered betrothed.  Princess Charlene had quite the reputation as a hunter, never once losing the scent of her prey. She very soon arrived at the site of the sword fight between two masters, her hunting party, which included her right hand man, Count Abaddon (among others), was close at hand.

“There was a mighty duel,” the princess announced as she pranced around in the swordsman's’ footprints.  “It ranged all over. Both of them were masters,” she said in awe.

“How did it end?  Who won?” Abaddon asked in feigned interest.  She remained seated on her horse, unwilling to get her shiny, stiff black leather clothing dusty.

“The loser ran off alone,” Charlie pointed in one direction, “The winner followed that set of footprints, leading to Guildar,” she pointed in the opposite direction.

“Shall we go after both of them, Your Highness?” Abaddon asked haughtily.

Charlie shook her head.  “No. The loser is nothing.  Only the prince matters,” she said wistfully.  “Clearly this was all planned by warriors from Guildar!  We must be prepared for whatever lies ahead.”

“Could this be a trap?” Abaddon asked in mock concern.

“I always think everything is a trap,” Charlie answered.  “That’s why I’m still alive,” she said arrogantly.

Crowley waited, watching as the man in black came across the clearing and approached him.  It was supposed to be a simple job. He was hired to kidnap a prince and start a war between Florin and Guildar.  This was his expertise! It was one wimpy prince! So, he hired himself a drunk who used to be a world renowned swordsman, and his giant moose of a brother, whose strength was unrivaled.  Of course, leave it to Moose and Squirrel to foul up defeating one scrawny man in black, who, most inconceivably, was following them!  This job was supposed to be a cake walk, and he’d be swimming in riches for the rest of his days.  But, as he always said, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Of course he would have to be the one to defeat the man in black.  His associates were, at best, functioning morons!

He sat at a stone table that he had set with fine linen, two pewter wine glasses, and a good bottle of wine.  The crown prince was seated next to him, a blindfold covering his chocolate brown eyes and a dagger held to his neck.  “So, it is down to you, and it is down to me.” Crowley said. “If you wish him dead, by all means, please keep moving forward.”

“Let me explain,” she began.

Crowley scoffed.  “Bollocks. There is nothing to explain.  You are trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen.”

“Perhaps we can reach an arrangement?” the man in black ventured.

“There will be no arrangement.” Crowley said.  “And you’re killing him,” he added as the man moved forward again.

“Well, if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse.”

Crowley agreed.  “I’m afraid so. I can’t compete with you physically, and you are clearly no match for my brains.”

His opponent scoffed this time.  “Are you really that smart?” she asked with arms crossed.

“Let me put it this way.  You’ve heard of Socrates, Plato, and Goldman, right?” Crowley asked.  When the other nodded, he continued. “Morons, all of them!”

“Really?” the man in black asked in disbelief.  “In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“For the prince?”

She nodded.

“To the death?”

Another nod.

“I accept!” Crowley said with a flourish as he stowed his dagger away.

“Good!  Pour the wine!” The man in black sat down across from Crowley as he poured two matching glasses of wine. She pulled a long thin vial from her breast pocket and carefully removed the stopper.  

“Inhale this, but do not touch,” she instructed Crowley.

Crowley gave it a hearty sniff.  “I don’t smell anything.”

“What you don’t smell is called Iocane powder.  It is odorless, tasteless, and dissolves instantly in liquid,” The man in black explained.  “Oh, and it is also one of the most deadly poisons known to man.”

“Hmm,” Crowley responded, seeming only marginally interested in what the man in black was saying.

The man in black took both glasses and turned around so that Crowley could not see what was being done to them. After several minutes, she turned around, mixing the glasses up again before setting a glass in front of each of them.  “Alright!” she said, “where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink. Then we find out who is right and who is dead.” She crossed her arms once again and nodded definitively.

Crowley scoffed, crossing his own arms. “But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”

“So, you’ve decided then?” The man in black raised one pale eyebrow from under her mask.

Crowley raised an eyebrow right back.  “Ha! Not even remotely. Because Iocane comes from Australia, as everyone knows, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.”

“Whoa, dude, slow down.  You’re making me dizzy.”

He smirked.  “Just wait until I get going, lamb chop! Now, where was I?”

The man in black still sat, relaxed, arms crossed.  “Australia.”

“Of course, Australia! And you must have suspected I would have known the powder's origin, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me!” Crowley blustered triumphantly.

This time, the man in black smirked.  “You’re just stalling now.”

“You would like to think that, wouldn't you?” Crowley scoffed. “You've beaten my moose, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my squirrely swordsman, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.”

She snorted.  “Look, old man, you’re just trying to trick me into giving something away.  It won’t work.”

“Why, lamb chop, it has worked.  You’ve given everything away. I know where the poison is,” Crowley said snidely.

“Then make your choice, old man.”

“Oh, I will.  I will.” Crowley said.  “Wait, what in the world is that?”  He pointed vaguely at something behind his opponent.

When the man in black turned around fully to see what was _not_ behind her, Crowley took the opportunity to swap their wine goblets.

“What?  Where? I don’t see anything!”

“Hmm…I could have sworn I saw something.  No matter.” Crowley barely held back a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

Crowley managed to swallow his laughter, somewhat.  “I’ll…I’ll tell you in a minute. First, let’s drink.  Me from my glass, and you from yours.”

The two each drank from their goblets at the same time.

“You guessed wrong,” the man in black said, lifting a brow.

Crowley grinned like the cat that got the canary.  “You only think I guessed wrong! That's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha! You fool! You’ve fallen victim to one of the classic blunders - the most famous of which is ‘never get involved in a land war in Asia’ - but only slightly less well-known is this: ‘Never go in against an agent provocateur when death is on the line!’ You see, even when I loose, I win. Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha......bollocks.”  That was his last word before Crowley fell dead.

The man in black removed the blindfold from the crown prince’s head.  “Who are you?” he asked his would-be savior.

“I am no one to be trifled with.  That is all you need to know.”

“So, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned?” Kevin asked in disbelief.  This person was no ordinary opponent.

“Actually, they were both poisoned.  I spent the last several years building up immunity to Iocane powder.” She grinned triumphantly.  “Are you alright?” she asked, trying to hide the concern in her voice, untying Kevin’s binds and helping him to his feet.

***

Meanwhile, Princess Charlene was still tracking them.  She came to the clearing where she discovered Crowley’s muscle, crumpled in the dirt, “Someone has beaten the giant!”  The princess could barely contain her disbelief.  Regaining control, she declared, “There will be great suffering in Guildar if he dies!”

***

Back where they had left Crowley for dead, the two fled. The man in black ran across a grassy and rocky clearing, practically dragging the crown prince behind.  In a fit of both compassion and annoyance, he flung the crown prince against a flat, bench-like rock. “Catch your breath.”

Starting to fear for his very life, Kevin pleaded.  “If you release me, whatever you ask for in ransom, you’ll get it.  I promise you!”

The man in black laughed without humor.  “And what is _that_ worth?  The promise of a man?” She spat the last word, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.  “You’re very funny, Highness.”

Scrounging confidence from somewhere, Kevin declared, “I was giving you a chance, because no matter where you take me, Princess Charlene will find us.  There is no greater hunter than her. She can track a falcon on a cloudy day. She can find you!”

The man in black scoffed.  “You think your dearest love will save you?”

“I never said she was my dearest love, and yes, she will save me.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “You admit to me that you don’t love your fiancé?”

Kevin nodded.  “She knows I don’t love her.”

“Or are not capable of love!” The man in black snapped at him.

Kevin drew himself up to his full height, narrowly towering over the man in black.  “I have loved more truly and more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever imagine!”

Her arm drew back to slap the crown prince across his face, stopping just short of making contact.  Instead, she pointed at him with a black gloved finger. “That was a warning, Highness. Next time, my hand flies on its own.  Where I come from, there are penalties when someone lies!” She grasped his wrist and resumed their trek, racing across the plain.

***

Princess Charlene’s party reached the scene of Crowley’s demise.  She knelt next to his dead body, and carefully smelled the discarded vial next to it.  “Iocaine powder. I’d bet my life on it.” She rose and pointed to the side of the table.  “And here are the crown prince’s footprints! He’s alive! Or was, an hour ago. If he is otherwise when I find him, I shall be very put out.” The princess pouted, worry creasing her features.  The hunting party remounted (except for Abaddon, who never once got off of her horse) and followed the footprints.

***

The man in black flung the prince down again, this time on a convenient log.  “Rest, Highness.”

Recognition dawned on Kevin.  “I know who you are! Your cruelty reveals everything.  You are the Dread Pirate Roberts! Admit it!”

“With great pride!” Roberts said with a flourish, bowing deeply. “What can I do for you?” She grinned.

“You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces,” Kevin spat.

Roberts tutted at him.  “That’s hardly complimentary, Highness.  Why spew your venom at me?”

“You killed my love,” Kevin replied, firmly and with deep emotion.

The pirate shrugged.  “It’s possible. I’ve killed lots of people.”  Roberts started pacing, looping around behind the prince, and sprawling on another fallen log.  “Who was this love?  Another princess like this one? Snobby, rich, and scabby?”

Kevin turned around to face her.  “No. A farm girl. Poor. Poor and perfect, with eyes like the sea after a storm,” he said wistfully.  Then firmer, he added, “On the high seas, your ship attacked, and the Dread Pirate Roberts _never_ takes prisoners.”

“Well, I can’t afford to make exceptions,” Roberts said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, lifting her arms and resting them behind her head.  “Once word gets out that a pirate’s gone soft, people begin to disobey you and it’s nothing but work, work, work all the time. I’m too pretty for that.”

“You mock my pain!” Kevin shouted at the pirate.

“Life _is_ pain, Highness,” Roberts spat back.  “Anyone who tells you differently is trying to sell you something.”

Kevin looked away, disgusted and dismayed.  Roberts rose and began to walk towards him, she spoke again.  “I think I remember this farm girl of yours…This would be what, about five years ago?”

Kevin said nothing, perched on his log and avoiding the pirate’s gaze. He didn’t really want to hear what came next, but he would not give Roberts the satisfaction of his grief.

“Does it bother you to hear about it?”

“No,” Kevin lied.  “Nothing you can say would upset me.”

“She died well, that should please you.  No begging, no attempts at bribery. She simply said, ‘Please.  Please, I need to live.’ It was the ‘please’ that caught my memory.  I asked what was so important for her to live for. ‘True love,’ she replied.”

Kevin finally looked up at the pirate at those words.

“Then she spoke of a boy of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume she meant _you._ ” Roberts said the last word with a sneer of derisiveness.  “You should bless me for destroying her before she found out what you really are.”

Kevin rose, again getting in the pirate’s face.  “And what am I?”

“She spoke of your enduring faithfulness.  Tell me, when you found out that she was dead, did you get engaged to your princess that same day, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?”

This time it was Kevin pointing a finger in the pirate’s face.  “You mocked me once, never do it again! I died that day!”

The sound of horses’ hooves caught Roberts’ attention and she turned her head away from the crown prince to see Princess Charlene’s party coming across the cliffs.

“You can die too, for all I care!” Kevin said, using the distraction to his advantage to push the pirate off the side of the hill.

“As….you….wish….!” was shouted as the pirate rolled down and down the grassy knoll.

“Oh my Gods!  My dear, sweet Claire!” Kevin exclaimed as he too took a tumble down.

“Oof!”  “Ouch!” and “Ugh!” and a smattering of curses were heard from both parties as they somersaulted down the hill, Claire’s mask and bandana slipping off for the last time.  Claire rolled and slid to a stop near the bottom, Kevin stopping closely behind.

***

Princess Charlene approached the last place the other two had been.  “They’re gone. They must have seen us coming and disappeared, which might account for his panicking and error.  Unless I’m wrong, and I’m never wrong, they’re heading directly for the fire swamp!” The Princess directed her party to loop around the swamp and to the other side.  “This way, if they do survive the fire swamp, we can retrieve the crown prince and have the kidnapper taken into custody.”

“But what if they don’t survive, Sire?” Abaddon asked.

“Then the country shall surely be in mourning,” Charlie answered with a heavy voice.

***

At the bottom of the hill they had tumbled down, Claire crawled over to Kevin and straddled him.  “Are you ok? Can you move?”

Kevin looked up at her, his eyes soft and happy.  “You’re alive. If you want, I can fly.” He frowned slightly.  “Except…”

Claire cut him off.  “Except what? Are you hurt?” She started frantically examining his body, sliding her hands all over, looking for broken bones.

Kevin chuckled.  “No, I’m not hurt.  But you are sitting on me, so moving might be a bit…difficult.”  He grinned cheekily at her.

She playfully slapped his chest.  “I’m just glad you’re okay.” She hugged him tightly before pulling away.  “Why didn’t you wait for me? I said that I’d always come for you.”

Kevin squinted at her in slight confusion.  “Well, you were dead.”

“Death can’t stop true love.  All it can do is delay it for a little while,” Claire said, the power of her conviction behind her words.

“I’ll never doubt that again,” Kevin said in awe.

“There will never be a need,” Claire assured, then bent down to kiss him.

Their long overdue and loving reunion was interrupted by the sounds of horses on the cliffs above them.  Claire stood and hoisted Kevin to his feet. They raced along the ravine, headed towards the fire swamp.

“We’ll never survive!” Kevin worried.

“Nonsense,” Claire assured.  “You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”

They crept into the fire swamp.  It was surrounded by dark, dank jungle.  Vines and long branches reached out from the trees in an apparent attempt to capture their prey. Sounds came from the bowels of the swamp, resembling monsters of childhood nightmares.  In fact, it was downright frightening…to everyone who wasn’t the Dread Pirate Roberts. “It’s not that bad,” Claire remarked.

Kevin looked at her in disbelief as he clutched onto her hand and arm for dear life.

“What?  I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here or anything.  But the trees really are quite lovely. Don’t you think?”

Kevin just stared at her as more sounds drifted from the forest.  Claire just shrugged one shoulder and gave him a small smile.  Holding hands tightly, Claire led the way deeper into the swamp.  Slowly, they made their way in past the vines and the branches and the trees.  Suddenly, a popping sound surprised them, and moments later, flame burst from the ground catching one of Kevin’s long belled sleeves on fire.  Startled, he released Claire’s hand and dropped to the ground. She quickly put the fire out and helped him back onto his feet.

“Well, that was an adventure!” she said with glee. Again, Kevin gave her a withering look.

“What?  You were barely singed.”

“Claire, I caught _fire_!”

“Yeah, and I put it out.  You’re fine. Well, except for this super fancy shirt that your pig fiancé must have given you.”

The popping sounded again, and Claire managed to shuffle Kevin out of the way this time.  “Well,” she started, “One thing I can say is that the fire swamp certainly keeps you on your toes.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Kevin said.  And if his voice happened to jump an octave, well, Claire never commented on it.

They continued on their way through the fire swamp, Claire hacking the vines out of their way with her trusty sword, and keeping Kevin well out of the way of the fire spurts.  As they trekked, Claire tried to keep the mood light with casual conversation.

“Don’t worry.  Soon this will just be a happy memory.  Roberts’ ship _Revenge_ is docked at the far end of the Cliffs of Insanity, and I, as you know, am Roberts.”

“But how is that possible?” Kevin asked in confused exasperation.  “The Dread Pirate Roberts has been marauding for twenty years, and you only left me five years ago.”

“I myself am often surprised at life’s little quirks.  What I told you about saying please was true. It intrigued Roberts, so did my description of your beauty.  Finally, Roberts decided something. He said ‘I’ve never had a valet, why don’t you give it a try. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ For three years this went on.  Every night it was the same thing. ‘Good work, Claire. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in morning.’ In that time, I was learning to fight and fence, and well, anything anyone would teach me. Roberts and I eventually became friends.  Then one day it finally happened.”

“What happened?” Kevin asked, fully intrigued by the story that really sounded like one of those fanciful tales his mother used to read him to sleep.

“Well, Roberts had grown so rich from our escapades that he was ready to retire. He took me to his cabin, sat me down, and took off his cap and mask, revealing that he too was a woman. ‘I am not the real Dread Pirate Roberts,’ she began, ‘My name is Meg, and I inherited the ship from the previous Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me.  The chick I inherited from wasn’t the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. Her name was Ruby. The real Dread Pirate Roberts was a woman named Colette, and she’s living like a queen in Patagonia.’ Then she explained to me that it was the name that was important for inspiring the necessary fear. No one on the Seven Seas would surrender to the Dread Pirate Claire, much less a woman.  So, we docked, took on a whole new crew, and she stayed on as first mate for a while, calling me Roberts. Eventually, she left the ship and I have been Roberts ever since. But now that we’re back together, I’ll pass the name onto someone else.”

“Another woman?” Kevin asked.

Claire shrugged.  “I don’t know. I don’t really care about gender, just about finding someone who won’t tarnish our reputation.”

Suddenly, Kevin dropped into a pit covered in sand that was just a few shades of lighter grey than the surrounding dirt.  He was sucked under as quickly as lightning. Claire had to think, and move, fast! She hacked one of the sturdy vines attached to a tree, and clinging to it, she dove into the sand.  She climbed out, with Kevin clinging desperately to her.

As they laid on the ground catching their breath, Claire looked up to spy one of the other main threats of the fire swamp, glaring at them, but she didn’t dare tell Kevin what she saw.

“We’ll never succeed,” Kevin bemoaned, still spitting sand.  “We may as well die here!”

“Geez, living in the palace sure has made you soft.” Claire scoffed.  “Besides, we’ve already survived. What are the three main terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt, no problem, those make a popping sound before they flare up.  We can easily avoid those. Two, the lightning sand,” she looked over at the pit they had just emerged from, “Now we know what that looks like, so we can stay away from it…”

“What about the R.O.U.S.’s?” Kevin asked shakily.

“The rodents of unusual size? I don’t think they exist,” Claire declared.  As if on cue, one such thing that did indeed exist came hurtling at them and pounced on Claire where she stood.  She and the creature tumbled to the ground, both determined to pin the other. The rodent gnashed its teeth, trying to bite the former pirate.  Claire held its jaws fast, her hand closed on the monster’s throat, trying to keep from being bitten.  The two rolled around on the ground, each getting their licks in. The ROUS finally got its jaws around Claire’s shoulder and bit down. Claire was unable to reach her sword and was completely at the rodent’s mercy.  In a fit of sudden bravery, Kevin grabbed a large tree branch and whacked the creature on the back. Momentarily dazed, when the popping of the closest fire spurt sounded, Claire was able to roll the creature over and into the fire. Picking up her sword and taking Kevin’s hand, they raced away.

Finally, finally, they made their way out of the fire swamp.  “We did it!” Kevin said on a sigh of relief.

“Now, was that so terrible?” Claire asked, and she absolutely did not roll her eyes at him. They bent towards each other to share a kiss of victory, when the sudden whinnying of several nearby horses interrupted them.

Princess Charlene and her hunting party rode up on them. Claire held her sword out defensively, tucking Kevin behind her as she did so.

“Surrender!” Charlie demanded from atop her steed.

“Oh? You wish to surrender to me?” Claire said cockily.  “Very well, I accept.”

“I give you full marks for bravery. Please don’t make yourself a fool.”

Claire raised an eyebrow at the princess.  “But how will you capture us? We know the secrets of the fire swamp and could live there quite happily for some time, so whenever you feel like dying, feel free to visit.”

Charlie chuckled darkly. “I’ll tell you once again. Surrender.”

“Will not happen.”

“For the last time, surrender!” The princess’ royal archers suddenly filtered out of the surrounding trees, effectively outnumbering the couple and closing them in where they stood.

“Death first!” Claire declared.

Kevin spoke up suddenly.  “Will you promise not to hurt her?”

“What was that?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, what was that?” Claire echoed.

“If we surrender, and I return to you, will you promise not to hurt this woman?” Kevin asked, making a last ditch effort to save his love’s life.

“May I live a thousand years and never hunt again,” Charlie promised sincerely...ish.

“She is a sailor on the pirate ship _Revenge_. Promise to return her to her ship!”

“I swear it will be done.” Charlie assured. She turned to Abaddon and ordered in a hushed whisper, “Once we’re out of site, take her back to Florin and drop her in the pit of despair.

“I swear, it will be done,” Abaddon parroted.

Kevin turned to Claire. “I thought you were dead once, and it almost destroyed me. I can’t let it happen again. Not when I can save you.” Charlie rode up and scooped Kevin onto her horse, the princess’s hand under the arm of the reluctant prince.

Abaddon rode up to Claire. “Come, madam, we must get you to your ship.”

Claire scoffed. “Please, we are women of action. Lies do not become us.”

“Well spoken.” Abaddon nodded towards one of the archers, who moved forward to bind Claire’s hands behind her back.

As she was being bound, she observed an unusual feature on the other woman. “You have six fingers on your right hand. Someone was looking for you.”

Abaddon rolled her eyes and smacked Claire on the top of her head with the butt of her sword, rendering the pirate unconscious. If Claire had been awake, she might have enjoyed the irony, having just done the same thing to the person pursuing _them_.

***

Sometime later, under the royal forrest, just past Charlene’s castle in the aptly named Pit of Despair, a comely blonde woman in a form fitting white dress descended the stairs into the pit, carrying food and drink for the prisoner. She proceeded to clean the other woman’s wound, dabbing at the bloodied skin. Claire slowly regained consciousness, and when she did, she asked the woman standing over her, “Where am I?”

In a raspy voice unbefitting her appearance, the woman responded, “The Pit of Despaaaair, don’t even bother-” she cleared her throat loudly, resuming in a more suitable, but almost kitten like voice, “Don’t even _think_ about escaping, the chains are far too thick. Don’t even think about being rescued either. Only the princess, the countess, and I know the way in. My name is Lilith, and I’ll be your tour guide through this mystical, magical world.”

“Then I’m here until I die?” Claire asked.

Lilith shrugged. “Until we kill you, yes.”

Claire looked confused. “If you’re just going to kill me, then why bother curing me?”

She sighed heavily. “The princess and the countess insist on everyone being healthy before they’re broken. I don’t see why. Healthy or injured, you all scream the same.”

“So it’s to be torture then?”

“Why of course.” Lilith said with barely contained glee.

Claire steeled herself. “I can cope with torture,” she insisted.

Lilith shook her radiant white-blonde locks.

“Don’t believe me?” Claire asked, offended.

“Well, you did survive the fire swamp, so you must be very brave.” She leaned in close to her victim. “But nobody, and I mean _nobody_ withstands the machine.” If she was a less composed type of person, she might have cackled maniacally.

***

Meanwhile, back at Florin Castle, Kevin meandered listlessly through its many winding halls. Charlie and Abaddon came upon him, and, turning to her most trusted advisor, Charlie remarked, “He’s been like this since the fire swamp. It’s my stepmother’s failing health that’s affecting him. They’ve grown quite close, both having once been commoners, you know.”

Abaddon nodded knowingly. “Of course.”

The queen died that very night. The next day, Kevin met his subjects again. This time as their king. The new Queen Charlene addressed the Florins. “My stepmother’s final words were, ‘Love him as I loved him, and there will be joy.’ I present to you your new king, King Kevin!”

Kevin entered from the far side of the square once again, decked out in even more finery. His velvet shirt swapped for the finest gold-trimmed silk.  Atop his head sat a large and ornate crown, fit for a king. As he approached his subjects, a grizzled, withered old lady stepped out from the crowd.

“Boo!  Boo! Boooo!”

“Why do you do this?” he asked.

“Because you had love in your hands, and you gave it up!”

“But they would have killed Claire if I didn’t!” He protested.

“Your true love lives, and you marry another! True love saved him in the fire swamp, and he treated her like garbage! And that’s what he is! The King of Refuse! So bow down to him if you will, the King of Slime, the King of Filth, the King of Putrescence! Boo! Boo! Rubbish, filth, slime, muck! Boo! Boo! Boo!”

Kevin awoke with a start, sweating and breathing heavily. It was ten days until the wedding, and the queen still lived, but Kevin’s nightmares were getting worse. He slid from bed and wrapped his dressing gown around his scantily clad shoulders. He rushed to Princess Charlie’s ready room.

“It comes to this: I love Claire and I always have. I know now that I always will.  If you tell me that I must marry you in ten days, please believe that I will be dead by morning.”

Charlie looked at him with deep concern. “I could never cause you grief. Consider the wedding off.” She turned to Abaddon. “Have you returned this…Claire…to her ship?”

“Yes, of course,” Abaddon said.

“Beloved,” Charlie said, successfully hiding her disdain for the word, “Are you certain she still wants you? After all, it was you who did the leaving in the fire swamp.  Not to mention that pirates are not known to be people of their words.”

“Claire will always come for me.”

“Let me suggest a deal,” Charlie all but purred. “Write four copies of a letter, I will send my four fastest ships, one in each direction.  The Dread Pirate Roberts is always close to Florin this time of year. We’ll run up the white flag and deliver your letter. If Claire wants you, then bless you both.  If not,” Charlie rose from her desk and took both of Kevin’s hands in both of hers, “Please consider me as an alternative to suicide? Are we agreed?”

Kevin agreed with a nearly imperceptible nod.

Later that day, Charlie and Abaddon were walking through the woods near the castle to the Pit of Despair.  Abaddon turned to the princess. “That crown prince of yours is really quite something. A bit simple, perhaps, but his appeal is certainly undeniable.”

“I know. The people are really quite taken with him.” Charlie agreed.  “It’s odd, when I hired Crowley to kill him on our engagement day, I thought that was ingenious. But it will be so much more satisfying when I strangle him on our wedding night. Once Guildar is blamed, the nation will be truly outraged and they will demand we go to war!”

Abaddon studied the tree in front of them. “Now, where is that secret knot? It’s almost impossible to find.” She turned to Charlie. “Are you coming down to the Pit? Claire has her strength back and I’m starting her on the machine today.”

“Abi, you know how much I love to watch you work, but I’m simply swamped. I’ve got my country’s 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, my husband to murder, and Guildar to frame for it.”

Abaddon nodded and placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Get some rest. After all, if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.”

Abaddon made her way down the stairs and into the heart of the pit of despair, her body hugging stiff black leather creaking with every move she made. Lilith came around the corner, pushing a heavy wooden table on wheels around to where Lilith could observe the figure strapped to it. They had Claire strapped down by the head, torso, and abdomen.

As Abaddon began a monologue intoning what was about to happen, Lilith plugged tubes from a large machine into the contraption attached to Claire’s head and chest. “Beautiful, isn’t it?  It took me half a lifetime to invent it. I’m sure you’ve noticed my deep, undivided interest in pain. In fact, I’m currently writing the definitive work on it. So, I want you to be totally honest with me on how the machine makes you feel.  This being your first try, I’ll use the lowest setting.”

Abaddon clicked the lever to one, and a small stream of water came in, running through the machinery and setting its gears to grinding. As it ran, Claire groaned and writhed on the table. Once she shut the machine down, Abaddon continued her diatribe.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. That’s all this is, really. Only instead of sucking water, I’m sucking life. I’ve just sucked one year of your life away. Someday, I may go as high as five, but I don’t really know what that would do to you, so let’s just start with this, okay? Now remember, this is for posterity, so be totally honest with me. How do you feel?”

In answer, Claire whimpered pitifully where she lay on the table.

“Interesting…”

***

Back in the castle, a young dark skinned man rushed into Charlie’s ready room, having been summoned by her several minutes ago, and not wanting to keep the princess waiting. He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat, as the princess was so engrossed in her current work that she didn’t see him enter.

Charlie looked up from the map in her hand. “Drexel. It’s about time.”

“Sire,” He bowed where he stood.

She gestured for him to come behind her desk and by her side. Drexel kneeled next to her chair, resting his arm on the arm of the chair. Charlie gave it, then him, a look. He quickly removed it, smiling weakly in apology. Once he removed it, Charlie put her own arm on the armrest and leaned in to where the young man was kneeling.

“As chief enforcer of all of Florin, I am entrusting you with this secret. This is a big responsibility, and I hope you can handle it.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Killers from Guildar are infiltrating the thieves’ forest and planning to kill my groom on our wedding night.” Charlie said in all seriousness.

“But Sire, my spies have heard no such news.”

Kevin entered at that moment. “Any word from Claire?”

The both stood in greeting and Charlie pasted a sugary sweet smile on her face. “It’s too soon, my angel. Patience is a virtue.”

“Claire will come for me.”

“Of course!” Charlie intoned, drawing out the last word.

Kevin turned on his heel then left. Once he was out of the room, Charlie and Drexel dropped to their former positions. “He will _not_ be murdered!” Charlie declared, appearing to all onlookers to be the picture of perfect, loving concern. “On the day of the wedding, I want the thieves’ forest emptied and everyone arrested!”

Drexel released a much put upon sigh. “Many of the thieves will resist. My regular enforcers won’t be enough!”

“Form a brute squad then!” Charlie said, perhaps with more force than necessary. “I want that forest emptied by my wedding day!”

“It won’t be easy, Sire.”

“Try ruling the world someday,” Charlie said.

Drexel merely squinted at her in response. As far as he knew, Florin wasn’t exactly the world.

***

The day of the wedding finally came. The brute squad had their hands full carrying out Charlie’s orders. As Drexel had predicted, the thieves were not going easily. Drexel rode around the forest on a cart that was filled with prisoners and pulled by two grey donkeys. He pulled up to one of his enforcers. “Is everyone out?”

“Almost,” the man replied. “There’s a drunkard giving us some trouble.”

“Well, you give him some trouble back, hmm?” Drexel ordered, trying to sound intimidating.

“Very well,” the man responded, and scurried off to collect a member of the brute squad to assist him.

The drunkard in question happened to be a certain swordsman who was leaning against a ramshackle hut, saying over and over again, “I am waiting for you, Crowley! You told me to go back to the beginning, so I have! This is where I am, this is where I will stay. I will not move!” Dean took another swig from his whiskey bottle when an enforcer found him.

“Ho there!”

“I will not budge. Keep your ‘ho there!’”

“But the princess gave orders,” the enforcer said, confused as to why this lush of man would simply defy him. Him, a royal enforcer!

Dean went for the man with his sword. Even drunk as he was, his aim was still pretty damn good, and the enforcer backed off, somewhat. “So did Crowley. When a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job, so this is the beginning. And this is where I will stay until Crowley comes.” He gave a definitive nod, which caused him to drop back down onto his ass.

The enforcer rolled his eyes and bellowed to another man. “You, brute, come here!”

“I am waiting for Crowley, he will come and meet me.” Dean sing-songed, ignoring the other men.

Giant hands picked Dean up by the front of his shirt. “You surely are a meanie.”

Dean gripped one of the hands that held him, and compared it to his own. The other’s hand was much larger than his, by more than he would like to admit. He finally looked up at the other man.

“Hello,” the giant man said.

“It’s you!” He said with a smile.

“True!” The other responded. He looked Dean over with a critical eye. “You don’t look so good.” When the enforcer came at them, Sam quickly dispatched of him with a blow to the head.

Dean scoffed at the insult. “Nonsense, I feel fiiiine.” He drew out the word, blowing his breath in the other man’s face.

“You don’t smell so good either. Gross.”

Sam and Dean were reunited. As Sam nursed his inebriated brother back to health, he explained about Crowley’s death and the existence of the six fingered man. Considering how long he had been looking for him, he took the news quite well…by passing out and clunking his head on the table.

Sam took great care in reviving Dean…by dunking him in ice cold water followed by steaming hot water. Repeatedly. After several dunks, Dean finally pulled himself away from Sam. “That’s enough, that’s enough! Where is this Count Abaddon so that I can kill him?”

“Countess Abaddon,” Sam corrected.

“What?” Dean asked. He briefly wondered if he was still drunk.

“Countess. The six fingered man is really a woman!” Sam laughed a bit manically, knowing his brother would wrestle with the idea he’d been bested by the fairer sex. “The man in black is actually a chick.  The six fingered man, also a chick. Dude, you got beat by girls.” He was enjoying this perhaps a bit too much.

“You…you shut your stupid face.” The swordsman pointed an unsteady finger at his brother. “I did _not_ get beat by girls! I was twelve, _twelve_ when that…that countess defeated me!  And…and that man in black…woman in black…whatever…well, she just happens to be a master swordsman. Swordswoman? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Now, where the hell is this countess so that I can kill her?”

“She is with the princess in the castle.” Sam answered. “But the castle gate is guarded by thirty men.” He sighed heavily. He knew Dean was going to come up with some risky, stupid plan.

“How many can you handle?” He knew Sam didn’t like to fight, but this was to avenge their grandfather.

Sam sighed. “I don’t think I could take on more than ten.”

Dean did the math by counting on his fingers. “That would leave twenty for me. Even at my best, I could never handle that many.” And they both knew that right now Dean was not, exactly, at his best. “I need Crowley to plan. I have no gift for strategy.”

Sam could have been floored. Dean admitted he wasn’t good at something. He recovered quickly enough though. “But Crowley is dead, remember?”

“No, not Crowley. I don’t need Crowley. I need the man…woman…in black.” Dean said suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in his head.

“The woman in black? Why?” Sam asked.

“He…she…bested you in strength…”

“I let her, Dean, I didn’t want to hurt her,” Sam interrupted.

“Sssh!” Dean shushed him. “Still, she bested me with steel. What? Don’t look at me like that. At least _I’m_ big enough to admit I got beat by a girl.” Sam rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe his brother was still hung up on the pirate being female. “If Crowley is dead, that could only mean that she out thought him, right? A woman like that can plan my castle onslaught any day.” Dean smiled, and added, “She was cute too. Way too young for me though.”

“Ew, Dean, stop.” Sam groaned. “Besides, she is Crown Prince Kevin’s one true love!”

“Yeah, you’re right. There’s no time. Let’s go!”

“Where?” Sam asked as his brother was practically out the door.

“To find the woman in black, obviously!”

“But Dean, you don’t know where she is!”

“Dude, don’t bother me with trifles. After twenty years, Grandfather’s soul will finally be at peace! There will be blood tonight!” He declared as he shot out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Dammit, Dean! Wait for me!”

***

In the castle, Princess Charlene sat at her desk in her ready room, casually sharpening a dagger when Drexel raced in and bowed in front of it. “Rise and report,” she said, a bit bored.

“The thieves’ forest is empty, Sire. Thirty men guard the castle gate.”

“Double it. My prince must be safe!”

In an attempt to reassure, Drexel stated, “The gate has but one key, and I carry it.”

“Very good. Still, double the guard.”

Kevin entered at that moment. Charlie rose and came around the desk in an effort to embrace her betrothed. “Ah, my dulcet darling!” she said, sickly sweet. “Tonight, we wed!” Charlie turned to look at Drexel. “Tomorrow morning your men will escort us to Florin Channel, where every ship in my armada waits to accompany us on our honeymoon!”

“Every ship but your four fastest,” Kevin pointed out, pulling away from Charlie’s touch.

“What?” Charlie asked, mildly confused.

“Every ship but the four you sent, right?” Kevin questioned, suspicious.

“Of course. Naturally not _those_ four,” Charlie insisted.

Drexel cleared his throat and excused himself. “Majesty.”

“You never sent the ships, did you? You lied!” Kevin glared. “It doesn’t matter. Claire will come for me anyway.”

“You’re a silly boy.”

“Yes, I am a silly boy!” Kevin agreed. “For not seeing sooner that you are nothing but a low life coward with a heart full of fear!”

Charlie slapped his face. “I would not say such things if I were you!”

“Why not? You can’t hurt me. Claire and I are joined by the bonds of true love. You can’t track that, not with a thousand hounds of Hell. And you can’t cut it, not with a thousand swords. And when I say you are a coward, it is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth!”

“I would not say such things if I were you!” Charlie said with a growl as she grabbed Kevin by the bicep and forcefully dragged him from her ready room and into his bedchamber, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Thoroughly upset and dismayed after her argument with Kevin, Charlie raced through the forest to the Pit of Despair.  She wouldn’t dare risk even the possibility of the Dread Pirate Roberts rescuing her prince from his wedding night demise. Abaddon and Lilith looked on as the princess raced down the stairs and made a beeline for Claire.

“You two truly love each other, so you might have been truly happy,” Charlie snarled, “Not one couple in a million has that chance, no matter what the story books say. So, I think no person in a century will suffer as greatly as you will!” She pulled the lever on the machine as high as it would go. Abaddon and Lilith both startled with surprise.

“Not to fifty!” Abaddon exclaimed, standing up from her desk so quickly that she shoved all of her paperwork to the other side.

The scream ripped from Claire was low, guttural, and inhuman.  It was loud enough to ring out across the forest that hid the Pit of Despair, up to the castle where Kevin started at the sound, down through the thieves’ forest where Drexel and his enforcers were collecting the few stragglers that remained.  It even rang loud through the main village just outside of Florin City, where Dean and Sam heard it.

“Sam, Sam!  Do you hear that?” Dean said, excitedly. Sam just looked at him, so he continued. “That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Abaddon slaughtered our grandfather.  The man in black…”

“Woman,” Sam interrupted.

Dean scowled at him. “The woman in black is making it now!”

“Why would she make that sound?” Sam asked.

“Duh, her true love is marrying another person tonight.  Who else has cause for ultimate suffering? Aren’t you the one always reading all those fairy tales?” Dean ribbed Sam. He tried to shove their way through the crowd that was gathering. “Excuse me. Pardon me.” No one was listening. “Sam…” he said on a whine, gesturing towards the crowd.

Exhaling a much put-upon sigh, Sam raised his long arms high above his giant head and said in a moose like voice, “Everybody move!!!!!!” And they did, parting like they were the red sea and Sam was Moses.

As if they were drawn by the sound of her suffering, Dean and Sam followed it directly to the grove that hid the pit of despair. Unfortunately, once there, they were dumbfounded.  They had no idea where to look for their would-be savior. Then, as if on cue, a comely blonde in a form fitting white dress came around the corner, pushing a wooden cart filled with various fruits. Lilith suddenly found herself at the business end of Dean’s sword.

“Where is the woman in black?” he demanded.  Lilith remained silent. “You got that from this grove, right? Now tell me where she is!” Again, Lilith declined to answer. Dean turned to his brother. “Sam, jog her memory.”

Sam hit the woman on top of her white-blonde hair with his giant fist. She immediately crumbled to the ground. Sam looked down at her then over to Dean. “Sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to jog her so hard.”

But Dean was already working on Plan B. He was kneeling in the clearing, holding Baby as if she were a lightning rod. “Grandfather, I have failed you these last twenty years. Now, our misery can end. Somewhere close by is a woman who can help us. I can’t find her alone. I need you. I need you to guide my sword, our sword. Guide our sword.” Rising, Dean meandered around the clearing with his sword out and his eyes closed until, as if by magic, his sword pulled him like a magnet towards the secret knot within the secret tree that led to the pit of despair.

Dean opened his eyes, and upon seeing a tree and not a woman in black, dropped his head into his arm against the tree, thus opening the secret door. Sam and Dean looked at each other, then raced down the stairs, only to find Claire’s still, prone body strapped to the table. She wasn’t moving, she wasn’t breathing. Sam laid his head against her chest to listen to her heart while Dean gripped her wrist, checking for a pulse. Sam said what they were both thinking.

“She’s dead.”

“Son of a bitch! It’s just not fair.” Dean stared at the prone body for a minute or two longer before looking back up at Sam. “Well, we Winchesters have never taken defeat well.”

Sam nodded agreement to Dean’s statement.

“So, ok, grab the body!” Dean directed.

“The body?” Sam asked, more confused than usual by his brother.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. You have money, right?”

“A little bit.” Sam said slowly.

“Good. Let’s just hope that it’s enough to buy a miracle!”

Sam smiled brightly, knowing exactly what his brother was up to.

Sam and Dean carried Claire to a cozy wooden hut with a thatched roof and panel door. Dean pounded on the door. From inside, a voice shouted, “Go away!” Dean would not be deterred, he pounded even harder. Finally, finally, a tiny square opened in the door and a head looked out through it. “What? What?” The dark haired head asked, clearly very annoyed at the interruption.

“Are you the Miracle Mills who worked for the king for all those years?” Dean asked, hopeful.

The dark haired head answered, “Yeah. And the king’s stinking daughter fired me. And thank _you_ so much for bringing up such a painful memory! While you’re at it, why don’t you just give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it! We’re closed!” With that, the head slammed the window closed.

Not one to be deterred easily, and as stubborn as they come, Dean pounded on the door once again. The head reappeared. “Beat it or I’ll call the brute squad!” the head threatened.

“I’m on the brute squad,” Sam helpfully supplied.

The head looked him up and down. “You _are_ the brute squad!”

“We need a miracle, it’s very important,” Dean implored.

“Look, I’m retired. Besides, why would you want someone the king’s stinking daughter fired? I might kill whoever you wanted me to miracle.”

“Well, she’s already dead,” Dean explained.

“She is? Well, I may as well take a look. Bring her in.”

Dean and Sam entered the tiny hut and laid Claire down on Miracle Mills’ table.  Miracle Mills examined the body, first by picking the arm up and dropping it back down. “Eh, I’ve seen worse.” Then, there was the pressing on the chest. Dean, of course, was growing impatient.

“Sir,” he started quietly, then louder, “Sir!” Finally getting the miracle man to look up, he said, “Sir, we are in a very terrible hurry.”

Miracle Mills scoffed at him. “Don’t rush the miracle man. Rush a miracle, you know what happens? You get rotten miracles. You got money?”

“Sixty-five.”

“Oof. I’ve never worked for so little,” Miracle Mills scoffed. “Well, once but that was for a very, very noble cause.”

“This is noble, Sir. Her husband is crippled and her children are on the brink of starvation,” Dean fibbed.

“Oy, aren’t you a rotten liar,” Miracle Mills called him out.

Dean leaned in close to the miracle man. “I need her to help avenge my grandfather, murdered these twenty years.”

“Your first story was better.” Miracle Mills looked around. “Now, where’s that bellows pump? She probably owes you money or something. I’ll ask her.”

“She’s dead, she can’t talk,” Dean pointed out.

Miracle Mills found the bellows in the corner of the room. He bent to pick it up as he talked, “Oh, well look who knows so much.” Turning back to the table, he continued. “It just so happens that your friend here is just mostly dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Now please, open her mouth.” He placed the end of the bellows crank into Claire’s mouth and began to pump. “You see, mostly dead is slightly alive. Now, all dead, well, with all dead there’s only one thing you can do.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“Go through their clothes looking for loose change.” Miracle Mills chuckled at his own joke. Having sufficiently pumped enough air into Claire’s lungs, the miracle man bent down to talk to her. “Hello! Hello in there! Hey! What’s so important? What could you possibly have here that’s worth living for?”

When he pressed on Claire’s chest, she answered in a barely audible voice, “Truuuee looove.”

Dean, looking triumphant, said, “Did you hear that? She said ‘True love.’ You can’t ask for a more noble cause than that!”

“Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world, except for a nice MLT, mutton, lettuce, and tomato, when the tomato is nice and ripe. It’s so perky. But that’s not what she said! She said ‘To blaaave.’ And as we all know, ‘to blave’ means ‘to bluff.’ And as we can all see, this woman has clearly been masquerading as a man. She probably beat you at cards, and when you found out you were beat by a girl, you probably killed her yourself. Now, fearing retribution from her husband, you bring her to me and want me to save her? Neither of you are noble!” Miracle Mills said with authority.

Suddenly, a woman came running out from another room, long blonde hair streaming behind her. “Hypocrite! Hypocrite, hyp-o-criiiiite!”

“Get back, witch!” the miracle man barked.

“I’m not a witch, I’m your wife, but after what I just heard, I don’t think I want to be that anymore!”

“You never had it so good!”

“True love! She said true love, Jody! And you’re one to talk about masquerading as man!”

“Shut up, Donna!”

Donna pointed at Jody, “This one here? Miracle Man, hah! Miracle Woman! But who would hire a miracle woman? No one, that’s who. So she’s just as guilty of it as your friend.” She turned back to Jody. “Who _did_ say true love!” She turned back to the boys. “She’s afraid. Ever since Princess Charlene fired her, her confidence is shattered.”

“Why did you say that name? You promised you would never say that name!” Jody griped.

“Charlene, Charlene, Charlene!” Donna sing-songed.

Jody covered her ears and ran around the table. “I can’t hear you! I’m not listening!”

“Charlene! Charlene! Charlene!” Donna chased her around the table. “True love lies expiring, and you don’t even have the decency to say why you won’t help!” Donna crossed her arms and pouted.

Using the pause in arguing to his advantage, Dean piped up. “This is Crown Prince Kevin’s true love! If you help her, she can stop the wedding!”

“Shut up!” Jody shouted suddenly. “I make her better, Charlene suffers?”

“Humiliations galore,” Dean promised.

“Hahaha!” Jody exclaimed. “Now _that_ is a noble cause! Give me the sixty-five, I’m on the job!”

“Woo hoo!” Donna added.

Several minutes later, Donna was painting chocolate onto a giant pill Jody was holding with wooden tongs. Dean looked on in amazement. “That’s a miracle pill?”

“The chocolate coating makes it go down easier, like a spoonful of sugar,” Donna explained. “But you have wait fifteen minutes for full potency. And she shouldn’t go swimming for what?” she looked at Jody, “An hour?”

“A good hour,” Jody agrees.

“An hour after eating it.”

“Thank you for everything,” Sam said as he carried Claire out of the hut.

The happy couple stood just outside the door, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders as they waved off the trio.

“Bye bye boys!” Donna said.

“Have fun storming the castle!” Jody added.

Donna looked at Jody. “Do you think it will work?”

“It would take a miracle,” Jody said.

Dean, Sam, and Claire (being toted on Sam’s back) made their way to the wall surrounding Florin City. Somehow, they climbed to the top, overlooking the castle. Claire slid off of Sam’s back and into Dean’s arms when he turned to look at the castle, and they both tumbled to ground, thankfully the buttress kept them on top of the wall. “Dean, Dean! There are much more than thirty guards now!”

“What’s the difference?” Dean asked, “We have her,” he pointed out, lifting her head for emphasis. “Here, let’s sit her up here,” he motioned for Sam to lean her against the buttress. “We’ll have to force feed her.”

“I don’t think it’s been fifteen minutes,” Sam said with a frown.

“We can’t wait. The wedding is in half an hour. It’s best to strike in the hustle and bustle beforehand.”

Sam nodded in agreement.

“Here, tilt her head back and open her mouth,” Dean said before kissing the pill for luck and shoving it into Claire’s mouth.

“How long do we have to wait before we know if the miracle works?” Sam asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Suddenly, Claire’s eyes opened. “I’ll beat you both apart; I’ll take you both together!”

“I guess not very long,” Sam chuckled, clamping his giant hand over Claire’s mouth.

He slowly removed his hand so Claire could speak again. “Why won’t my arms move?”

“You’ve been mostly dead all day,” Sam said, as if that explained everything.

“We had Miracle Mills make a pill to bring you back,” Dean added.

Claire still had a few questions. “Who are you? Are we enemies? Why am I on this wall? Where’s Kevin?” She asked in one breath.

Dean tried to answer them. “Let me explain. No, there is way too much. Let me sum up. Kevin is marrying Charlene in a little less than half an hour. So, all we have to do is break into the castle, crash the wedding, steal the prince, and get out. Oh, after I kill Countess Abaddon.”

“That doesn’t leave much time for dilly dallying.” Claire said.

“Hey! You just wiggled your finger!” Sam pointed out as Claire’s thumb fluttered against her chest where her hand was resting.

“I’ve always been a quick healer,” she said. “What are our liabilities?”

“There is only one working castle gate,” Dean started, he then motioned for Sam to help him pick Claire up so she could see over the wall. “It’s guarded by sixty men.”

“And our assets?”

“Your brains, Sam’s strength, and my steal,” Dean said proudly.

“That’s it? Impossible! If I had a month to plan, maybe, but this…” Claire trailed off and shook her head.

“You just shook your head!” Sam exclaimed. “That should make you happy!”

“My brains, your strength, and his steal against sixty men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy??? Come on!” Claire grumped. “I mean, if we only had a wheelbarrow that would be something.”

Dean looked at Sam. “Where did we put that wheelbarrow that the comely blonde had?”

“We left it with the comely blonde,” Sam answered.

“Why didn’t you list that among our assets in the first place?” Claire sighed. “Now, if only I could get my hands on a holocaust cloak.”

“I’m afraid we can’t help you there,” Dean said.

“Will this do?” Sam asked as he pulled said holocaust cloak from within his tunic with a flourish.

“Where did you get that?” Dean asked, surprised.

“At Miracle Mills’. It fit so nice, she said I could keep it!” He grinned cheesily at his brother.

“Alright, alright!” Claire said. “Come on, lift me up.” The brothers balanced her between them. “I’ll need a sword eventually,” she added as her head flopped forward without her control.

“Why? You can’t even lift one.” Dean pointed out.

Sam lifted her head up so she could look at Dean. “Yeah, but that’s hardly common knowledge!” This time her head flopped backward. Sam pushed it back up again. “Thank you,” she acknowledged him. “Now, there are still a few problems.

“Tell me about it!” Dean said. “Once we’re inside the castle, how do I find the count? Once I do, how do I find you again? Once I do, how do we escape?”

Sam turned Claire’s head towards his enormous chest. “Don’t pester her! She’s had a hard day!”

“Right, right, sorry,” Dean apologized.

Sam nodded Claire’s head in acceptance. Hoisting the pirate back in between them, the trio headed on their way to storm the castle.

In the castle, Princess Charlene helped Kevin get into the last bit of his wedding finery by fastening some hard to reach buttons. “You don’t seem excited my little caramel treat.”

“Why should I be?” Kevin asked, mildly agitated.

Charlie scoffed. “I’m often told that most people are excited on their wedding day.”

“Pish. I’m not going to marry you tonight. Claire will come save me.” And with that, he rose and left the room.

Charlie shared a sly, secret smile with no one. She, of course, thought that Claire was all the way dead.

After fetching the wheelbarrow from the now deceased comely blonde, the trio of heroes returned to their wall just outside of the castle gate. They peered over the wall in confident concern, and then looked at each other. Dean stuck his hand out in solidarity, Sam laying his on top, and, after a bit of struggling, Claire added hers on top of theirs. They were ready to go.

And not a minute too soon, as the wedding ceremony had already started. Charlie and Kevin stood in front of an impressive clergyman, who said in his unique and easily identifiable low, gravelly timber, “Marriage, marriage is what brings us together today. Marriage, that blessed arrangement. Marriage, that dream within a dream…”

Even from inside the chapel could be heard the shouts from Drexel, instructing his men to “Stand your ground! Stand your ground!”

He was begging them to stand their ground, because, approaching dressed in his holocaust cloak was the giant Sam, his cloak concealing the wheelbarrow he was being pushed in, mostly by Dean, but Claire was helping. Sort of.

Sam said, in a threatening voice, “I am the Dread Pirate Roberts! There will be no survivors!”

“Now?” Dean asked, starting to struggle.

“Not yet,” Claire whispered back.

Sam continued on, “My men are here, I am here, but soon _you_ will not  be here!”

“Now?” Dean asked again, clearly out of breath.

“Light him,” Claire instructed and Dean set Sam’s cloak on fire.

Once on fire, Sam became even more dramatic in his delivery. “The Dread Pirate Roberts takes _no survivors_! All of your worst nightmares are about to come true!” He drew out the word “true” as he was pushed closer and closer to the sixty men guarding the castle gate.

The impressive clergyman continued on, as if he had not been interrupted. “And love, true love will follow you forever, and ever.”

Meanwhile, at the castle gate, Sam continued to threaten the guards. “The Dread Pirate Roberts is here for your souls!!!!!”

The guards quickly scattered, despite Drexel’s best efforts to keep them all in line.

In the chapel, the impressive clergyman was still unfazed. “So treasure your love…”

Princess Charlene cut him off. “Skip to the end!”

Rolling his deep blue eyes, the impressive clergyman did. “Have you the ring?”

Kevin knew that the disturbance outside could only mean one thing. He smirked at Charlie. “Here comes Claire now.”

Charlie smirked back. “Claire is dead. I killed her myself.”

“Oh really? Then why do you look like you’re about to puke?” Kevin asked, unable to hide his hopeful smile.

At the castle gate, the only one remaining to guard it was Drexel. He tried to close the portcullis, but, at Dean’s instruction, Sam easily kept it open, using his strong shoulders to do so. This left nothing to separate Drexel from the “Dread Pirate Roberts” and his compatriots. The three of them surrounded him. Sam towering over the chief enforcer, and Dean, dragging Claire along, crowded his other side.

“Give us the gate key,” Claire demanded.

“I have no gate key,” Drexel insisted.

Dean looked at his brother and smirked. “Sam, tear his arms off.”

“Oh! You mean this gate key?” Drexel asked as he pulled it out of his tunic.

Sam grabbed it from him with little ceremony.

Somehow, the wedding marched on. “And do you, Crown Prince Kevin Tran…” The impressive clergyman said before getting cut off by Princess Charlene once again.

“Say husband and wife! Husband and wife!”

The impressive clergyman rolled his blue eyes once again and said sardonically, “Husband and wife. Husband and wife.”

The merry band of misfits made into the chapel just in time to hear Charlie order her stepmother to, “Escort the groom to the honeymoon suite! I’ll be there shortly!”

Dean paused their invasion long enough to appreciate the impressive clergyman. “Whoa. That wedding official is hot.”

“Dude! He’s a priest!” Sam said in disgust. Then he smacked Dean on the shoulder and pointed in the direction that Kevin had been led through.

They followed in that direction. Claire was still mostly dead, so she was being dragged through the halls by Sam while Dean went ahead of them to scout.  After opening many doors, and perhaps embarrassing a few of the castle’s inhabitants, they found the honeymoon suite. Kevin wasn’t there yet, but Claire knew that he soon would be.  Sam carefully laid her down on the bed and went outside to stand watch. Dean wanted to leave, needed to leave and hunt down Count Abaddon, he knew Claire would be safe with Sam, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave quite yet.  He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the young girl he not so long ago thought of only as “the man in black.”

“Hey, kiddo, are you going to be ok?”

“Well, I can still barely move, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.  What if we didn’t stop the wedding?”

“Dean…”

“What?”

“Go kill your count.  Let me worry about my prince, ok?”

“Geez, I was just trying to help.”

Claire grabbed his hand, “I know.  I appreciate that, but we both have quests to complete.  And Kevin might be here any minute.”

“Ok.  I’m going.”

Meanwhile, Abaddon and a slew of castle guards were stalking the halls, trying to find and capture the intruders. When Dean and Sam stepped out of the room, they were immediately confronted by them.

“Kill those two, but make sure you keep the blonde alive for questioning,” Abaddon instructed, and the guards swarmed on them.

Dean immediately dispatched of the guards with his sword, and then turned to Abaddon. “Hello. My name is Dean Winchester. You killed my grandfather. Prepare to die.”

Abaddon raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “You’ll have to catch me first,” she said before taking off in the opposite direction.

Dean instantly took chase after her. When Abaddon rounded the corner and ducked into another room and locked the door, Dean tried to knock it down. “Sam! Sam help me!”

“But I should stay here and keep watch! I can’t leave her alone,” Sam protested.

“Please! She’s getting away!”

With a much put upon sigh, Sam left where he was standing guard and went to help Dean. He bodily stopped him from continuing to ram against the heavy wooden door, and then, with one blow from his moose sized fist, the door opened for him. He made a grand gesture indicating that Dean was free to continue his pursuit.

“Thank you,” Dean muttered as he ran after Abaddon.

As the king and the queen escorted Kevin to the honeymoon suite, the king commented, “Strange wedding.”

“Yes, it was very strange,” the queen agreed.

“Come along, Darling,” the king said, before moving ahead of the queen and Kevin towards their own quarters.

Kevin linked his arm with Queen Mary’s as they walked down the hall.  He gave her a soft peck on the cheek.

“What was that for?”  The queen asked, delighted.

“You’ve always been so kind to me, and I just wanted you to know that,” Kevin replied.

“That was very sweet of you, dear.”  Her eyes sparkled. “But what brought that on?”

“I’m going to kill myself once we reach the honeymoon suite.”

“Ok, dear, have fun.”  Queen Mary chuckled and patted his hand as they parted ways.  It’s possible she may have already known about the invasion party coming to rescue the reluctant prince and knew he’d never have the chance to go through with his plans.

Meanwhile, Countess Abaddon continued to flea her pursuer, but Dean was hot on her trail. This time, when she entered a room, she failed to lock the door behind her, and Dean easily entered behind her. The pursuit continued through rooms and up and down staircases. At one point, Abaddon managed to pause long enough to pull a small dagger from her black leather knee high boot. Once Dean descended the stairs and followed her into a dining hall, she threw the dagger, lodging into his abdomen. She smirked.

“Sorry, Grandfather. I tried, I tried.” Dean panted as he leaned against the wall for support.

Abaddon chuckled. “You must be that little Winchester brat I taught a lesson to all those years ago. It’s incredible. You’ve been chasing me your whole life only to fail now?” She mocked him. “That has got to be both the most delightful and the most dreadfully sad thing I have ever heard. How marvelous.”

As Abaddon was relishing in her victory over one Dean Winchester, Kevin finally made his way to the honeymoon suite. He stood in front of the dresser where the box with the dagger he’d stashed to kill himself with was hidden. He pulled the long, slim dagger out of the box and held it ready to thrust into his stomach.

“You know, there’s a shortage of perfect abs in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours,” Claire said from where she was lying on the bed.

Kevin turned around and smiled at her.  “Claire! You’re alive!” He raced over to the bed and kissed her all over her face.

“Gently!”  She warned him.

“Gently?  I thought you were dead. Again.  And all you have to say is ‘gently’?”

“Oh, who am I kidding?”  Claire wrapped her arms around Kevin’s neck and pulled him close.  “This time, use your tongue.”

In another room in another part of the castle, the mocking must have been just the push Dean needed. He pulled the dagger from his gut and let it clatter to the floor. Leaning hard against the wall, he pulled himself to a standing position.

Abaddon was less than impressed. “Good Lord, are you still trying to win? You’ve got an overdeveloped sense of vengeance, and it’s going to get you into trouble someday.”

Dean lunged forward. “Wow, you sure do like to hear yourself talk.” He managed to say before falling back against the wall.

The countess lunged at him with her sword. Dean managed to counter each parry to his chest, but Abaddon still managed to land a blow first to his right shoulder, then to his left arm. When Abaddon set to attack him full on, Dean found his second wind, standing up and fencing with her for real. “Hello. My name is Dean Winchester. You killed my grandfather. Prepare to die.” With each word, he advanced on her. Fighting one handed, as the other one was still clutching the wound in his gut, Dean stumbled, using the dining table for support. He righted himself and continued to advance on the countess, repeating as a mantra, “Hello, my name is Dean Winchester. You killed my grandfather. Prepare to die.” With each chorus, he seemed to grow stronger and stronger, matching Abaddon thrust for thrust and parry for parry.

Their fight took them around and around the dining room, knocking over furniture and fixtures. Each time Dean got the better of his opponent, he would repeat, “Hello, my name is Dean Winchester. You killed my grandfather, prepare to die.” Dean continued to wear Abaddon down. “Hello! My name is Dean Winchester! You killed my grandfather, prepare to die!”

“Stop saying that!” She shrieked.

“Hello! My name is Dean Winchester! You killed my grandfather! Prepare to die!” Dean emphasized his point with a blow to Abaddon’s right shoulder, and then a matching blow to her left arm. “Hello! My name is Dean Winchester! You killed my grandfather. Prepare to die!”

“No!” She shrieked again.

Dean sliced her right cheekbone. “Offer me money.”

“Yes.”

Dean sliced her left cheekbone. “Offer me power too.”

“Yes. Yes! All that I have and more!”

“Offer me anything that I ask for!” Dean stated, pulling his hand away from his gut with a flourish.

“Anything you want.”

Abaddon lurched forward in one final attempt to dispatch Dean. He caught her easily. “I want my grandfather back, you ginger bitch!” With that, he dealt her a final, lethal blow, right to her gut. Abaddon’s lifeless body gracelessly slid to the floor. Out of breath and once again clutching his gut, Dean ran off to find his friends.

Meanwhile, in the honeymoon suite, despite being reunited with his beloved farm girl, Kevin was troubled. “Claire, can you ever forgive me?”

“Why? What did you do wrong this time?” Claire sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Um, I got married…?” Kevin pointed out. It came out almost like a question.

Claire shook her head as best as she could, given her circumstances. “You didn’t.”

Kevin looked confused. “Yes, I did. This guy said ‘husband and wife.’”

“But did you say ‘I do’?”

“Um…no. It all happened so fast. I think we skipped that part.” Kevin said, still slightly confused.

“Well, there you go. If you didn’t say it, then you didn’t do it.” Claire said definitively. Then she looked over his shoulder to someone standing in the doorway. “Wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?” She inquired.

“A technicality that will shortly be remedied,” Charlie declared as she strode into the room. “But, first things first.” She drew her sword and advanced on Claire. “To the death!”

Claire rolled her eyes again. “If we must. I have been mostly dead all day, so you may have a slight advantage.” Struggling, she managed to roll off of the bed and into a standing position. “Or, I could be totally fine and you’re signing your own death warrant.”

Charlie smirked. “I’ll take that chance.”

Leaning against the wall, Claire managed to parry Charlie’s first thrust, much in the way Dean did against Abaddon not fifteen minutes earlier. Charlie caught her in the same shoulder where she had been bitten by the rodent of unusual size in the fire swamp. But then, Claire pushed off of the wall, showing herself to be fully recovered and advanced on the princess.

“I’ve always been a quick healer,” Claire smirked this time.

Their fight roved all over the honeymoon suite until one point when Claire had Charlie pinned against the wall, sword at her throat. Charlie’s hazel eyes sparkled. “Are you as turned on as I am right now?”

Claire snarled, but before she could conjure a witty rejoinder, Dean came barreling into the room. He took in the scene before him, and was mildly shocked at what he saw.

“Charlie?  But you don’t even like dudes!”  Dean exclaimed. He was covered in blood, not all his own, showing he was victorious in battling his own demon.

“I had to marry him!” The princess exclaimed.  “Tran Ranch is right on the border of Guildar.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Dean and Claire asked in unison.

Charlie rolled her hazel eyes.  “King Chuck and Queen Becky of Guildar sent Prince Samandriel to woo Kevin, in order to secure his land and alliance with them, so that they could plan their invasion of Florin!”

Kevin, who had remained mostly quiet up until now, spoke up.  “What are you talking about? Samandriel wasn’t wooing me. We’re friends.  We both lost our true loves to the Dread Pirate Roberts. Besides, my family has always been loyal to Florin.”

(It’s true that a very reluctant Prince Samandriel was sent to woo Kevin Tran.  Instead, the two bonded over their shared grief of losing their one true love on the high seas to the Dread Pirate Roberts.  However, it wasn’t long after that Meg returned to him once she passed the pirate mantle on to Claire. Now, Meg Masters was sitting alongside Samandriel as the crown princess of Guildar.  Much to Queen Becky and King Chuck’s dismay. But that’s another story…)

Charlie turned to him, rolling her eyes again.  “Exactly! Your mother was refusing to even hear their offer for an arranged marriage.  That’s why they sent him to woo you!”

“You’re crazy!” Kevin scoffed.

A light bulb suddenly went off in Dean’s head.  “Wait a minute! Did you hire Crowley to kidnap the kid and have him killed so you could start a war with Guildar?”

“Well, duh!” Charlie replied.  “First of all, they were already planning an invasion, but I couldn’t strike back without a reason first.  Apparently, a plan is not a reason. Second of all, have you seen my polling numbers lately? My approval rating is in the crapper.  A little sympathy vote never hurt anyone!”

“Um, Charlie, you’re born of royal blood. You don’t get votes,” Dean pointed out.

“Well, I know that, technically speaking, I don’t get votes. But do you have any idea how hard it is to rule a kingdom when most of your people hate you?”

“And so this was you plan? You actually thought this was a good idea?” Kevin asked in disbelief.

Charlie scoffed. “Well, it seemed like the logical thing to do at the time.”

Dean had a sudden epiphany. “Wait, was this all Abaddon’s idea?”

“Um…no, not exactly,” Charlie stammered. “Except that it was mostly her idea. So I guess, yes, exactly?”

“Well, she’s dead, so maybe you can put an end to this nonsense.” Dean said.

Charlie shrugged.

Suddenly, Dean looked around the room. “Hey, um, has anybody seen Sam?”

Claire looked at him confused. “I thought he was with you?”

“No. I thought he came back here to stand guard. Which he obviously failed at.” Dean glared pointedly at Charlie.

“Well, obviously, he didn’t.” Claire also leveled a glare at the princess.

Suddenly, they heard shouting from just outside the window, down in the courtyard. “Dean! Claire! Where are you?”

Dean and Claire looked out the window to see Sam, holding the reigns of two black horses, who were pulling a coach that very closely resembled that of Cinderella’s, but all black. “Look! I found the wedding coach. I thought it would be handy to facilitate our escape. By the way, who even _has_ a black wedding coach?”

Charlie peeked out the window. “Hiya, Sam.”

“Oh, that explains it.” Sam said, before doing a double take. “Wait minute, Charlie? You’re not even into dudes!”

“Please, let’s not get into that again!” Dean said. “Can we just get out of here?”

“Yes, please, let’s go,” Kevin begged.

Dean looked over to Charlie. “Are you going to let us leave?”

“Wait a minute! I still have no guarantee that Tran Ranch won’t fall into the hands of Guildar!”

Kevin sighed heavily and turned to address Charlie. “Look, princess, my family has always been loyal to Florin, kidnapping, forced marriage, and threatened murder notwithstanding.”

“But what about your good friend, Prince Samandriel?” Charlie asked.

“You do realize that he has no interest in invading Florin, right?”

“That’s a lie!” Charlie exclaimed.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “And who told you he wanted to?”

“Abaddon.” Charlie said in a small voice.

“Oh yeah, and we all know just how much _she_ can be trusted.” Dean said sarcastically.

“Fine! Point taken!” Charlie exclaimed. “You are all free to go.” She turned to Claire, “But you are more than welcome to stay if you want.” She winked.

“No, thank you, please.” Claire said. She took Kevin’s hand and quickly made her way out of the room, Dean close on their heels.

When they finally made it to the courtyard, Sam was leaning against the carriage with his arms crossed. “Well, it’s about time.”

“Eat me,” Dean replied eloquently.

“Gross,” Sam said.

“Can we just go?” Kevin asked. The farther away he got from the castle, the better he’d feel.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Claire agreed.

Claire, Kevin, and the injured Dean got inside of the carriage while Sam sat atop to lead the horses. While they were meandering along, Dean got suddenly quiet and pensive.

“What’s the matter with you?” Claire asked.

Dean turned and looked at her. “You know, it’s very strange. I have been in the revenge business for so long that now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life.”

Claire was quiet for a moment as she mulled something over. “Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a great Dread Pirate Roberts.”

Dean thought it over for a minute. “Hmmm, that could be interesting. I wonder if that hot clergyman would want to travel on the high seas with me.”

“HE’S A PRIEST!” Sam shouted from his perch.

Once Dean and Sam dropped Claire and Kevin off at Tran Ranch, Claire was sure to give Dean all he would need in order to take over the pirate ship _Revenge_ as the new Dread Pirate Roberts. Then, the Winchester boys were off and on their way to their new life. If they stopped at the palace and convinced a very hot and impressive clergyman (whose name was Castiel, by the way) to join them on the high seas, well, no one had to know. Except for poor Sam, who was grossed out by Dean and Castiel on a daily basis. (But that, once again, is another story.)

Back on Tran Ranch, Claire approached Madam Tran.  Claire was now dressed in the finest attire (suitable for her gender) that a former pirate could afford, which was quite fine, actually. “Have I done enough to earn Kevin’s hand in marriage?” she asked. Even after everything she had been through, nothing else made her as nervous as speaking to Mada. Tran.

Madam. Tran considered her request long and hard for several minutes, causing the former Dread Pirate Roberts to squirm. “Well, Claire, you have certainly come a long way from the farm girl we used to know.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ve worked very hard to be worthy of your son.” Claire said, only just managing to keep the slight tremble from her voice.

“I suppose the most important question is, do you love my son?” Madam Tran raised an eyebrow at her and gave Claire a hard look.

Claire looked over to where Kevin was standing just behind his mother and to the left. A small, sweet smile crossed over her features. “I always have,” she said, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she meant every word.

“Well, in that case,” Madam Tran started, sounding stern. “Welcome to the family!” She exclaimed happily, and finally, she cracked a smile.

Kevin rushed into Claire’s arms, and they shared a deep, passionate kiss. Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that have been rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.  Needless to say, they lived happily ever after.


	2. Art Credits - A Word From WeldersMightyB

Hey there, Gentle Readers! (Buffy anyone? No? Moving on....)

 

I just want to start by thanking the mods of the SPN Movie Big Bang 2019 and my wonderful author, Andromytta. Without all these wonderful people, I would not have even tried to start doing fanart.

 

This is my first Bang, and it has been a blast! I have learned a ton (and I have ways to go!), and I now can say I have fanart that I have made. Andromytta was so supportive through the whole process, cheering me on when I was ready to call it quits. As for my "process" (if it can be called that?) I use Photoshop and that alone has been its own journey. I started this Bang with no knowledge of how to make a photo manip, and now here I am! I've attached a collage of my original images, just in case anyone wants to see where I started!

 

 

To everyone who read the fic, I say: thank you! Go leave Andromytta a comment, she'll appreciate it immensely! And anyone who has comments or tips about the art, I'm all ears!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come say hi! Tumblr


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